


Loving you is a Religion

by unforgetabELLE



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Love, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 18:10:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14939288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unforgetabELLE/pseuds/unforgetabELLE
Summary: She turned to eye her imperfect man and felt no trepidation at this life she’d envisioned for them. He had been her partner long before she even had an inkling of what that word truly meant. There was no one she trusted more to give her hand and heart to for as long as they both should live. Loving him was a religion she’d gladly dedicate her life to.





	Loving you is a Religion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mari_Poppins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mari_Poppins/gifts).



> Hello! Happy Friday! Have some fluff!

She drew lazy doodles in the corner of her sketchbook, the low light of the afternoon sun streaking in fractured rays through the arched window and casting a golden glow across the hardwood floor. Their apartment was situated on a northern road tucked into a quiet part of old city, and they’d toured it at this exact time of day before buying. It was what had sold Marinette on the top floor of the repurposed warehouse. The exposed brick and wood beams were homey, and certainly charmed Adrien who’d grown up in the glorified mausoleum, but it was the windows that grabbed her attention. They were new, double panned and insulated against the sometimes harsh weather, but styled to match the turn of the century building. Expansively covering the entire length of the street-facing wall and accented in the middle with a half moon arch, they expertly made the most of the afternoon sun. 

Closing her eyes, Marinette angled her head to the right, tilting her neck to catch the fading beams of sunlight. The warmth seeped through her, contrasting drastically with the damp London air just outside. Wrapped in the fluffy blanket Papa had given her and the misshapen oversized sweater Alya had tried her hardest to knit, Marinette could almost pretend she was in Paris. A familiar tapping echoed through the open space and she smiled past the familiar melancholy that unavoidably came with memories of home.  Opening her eyes, she turned her head towards the sound and felt herself warm for an entirely different reason. London wasn’t her hometown, but then, home wasn’t a place. It was people. For her, it was a person.

Adrien sat at his desk, shuffling through legal documents and construction plans of the newest Gabriel endeavour. They had opened a design school here in London years ago. Small to start, but with an intensive program that focused on fabric mechanics: the design, construction and creation of new weaves, threads and fabric hybrids. He and his father had finally seemed to find common ground and had announced the newest project to glowing accolades. The press announcement was sunny and cordial, both men speaking with polite smiles about this new direction of the company, but she knew Adrien was bursting with excitement on the inside. She knew, because she’d already seen it. 

When Adrien had come home the night he and his father had first come to the agreement , Marinette had never seen Adrien so joyful. It was almost five years ago now, but Marinette would never forget the smile on his face  as he told her the news. He was summertime, concentrated and bottled and only for her. The only taint to his joy was that this new project came with the caveat that he move to London to oversee it. At first, they’d been resigned to visiting each other as much as possible, it wasn’t an impossible distance after all, but then she had a better idea. Her internship would be coming to a close soon anyway, and while she enjoyed the company she worked for, they had taken her as far as they could. She’d started applying for jobs elsewhere in Paris even before they knew about Adrien’s move, so adding London into her radius seemed like a no brainer. She hadn’t expected to find something as quickly as she had.

It was with an established designer with a modest amount of fame. He’d recently captured some high-end clients at the time and his workflow was burgeoning. While he had an assistant and expert tailors, what he was really looking for was a young designer to act as his second set of eyes.  Someone with talent and vision that he could trust not only to tell him when he was being absurd, but who would could sublement his inspiration with their own. Marinette had been hired on the spot after her first meeting with Liam, managing to impress him by kindly making suggestions of improvements on a new collection that he had neglected to tell her was his own. Initially, it had been a temporary position, probational to see if it worked out between the two of them. Four years later, and her temporary position had become very permanent, her sub-label under Liam’s now-very popular brand set to debut in the spring. 

Adrien’s dream had been realized as well. Once the school had a decent foundation, he was given permission to put that physics degree to good use and teach as an adjunct professor. The program had been popular enough that they were planning an expansion now. It was a tremendous responsibility, and she could tell he still wasn’t confident under its weight, but she’d never doubted him. The move had ended up being the perfect decision for both of them.

Looking over at her partner of 6 years, she settled further back into the plush couch, her hand continuing to draw absentmindedly as she gazed at him. Unaware and lost in the labyrinth of his mind, Adrien was unendingly beautiful to her. His hair was shorter than when they first met, though he kept it long on the top for her. She loved the way it curled at the edges on the days he didn’t style it for the office. Flopping slightly into his eyes, he suddenly became the young boy she fell in love with while still maintaining the mature lines of the man she’d come to implicitly entrust her heart and life to. 

His green eyes glowed from behind his glasses, forever slipping down the bridge of his nose. Adrien hated them, annoyed and frustrated when he realized his vision was worsening. Stubbornly, he never had gotten used to them, but she had. She loved her kitten’s studious look. Although, at the moment, rumpled and fidgeting, she had to admit he was veering more towards “derpy university student” than “successful business owner”. But she’d take this Adrien over his polite and unerringly gracious public persona any day. His students got a glimpse into the excitable dork she called her own, but only she got to see the truly unkempt boy: sitting at his workstation in a tattered sweatshirt, humming and tapping erratically on the desk.

She smiled, her hand still flying over her sketchbook in a absent minded drawing. The tapping had driven her crazy when they first moved in together until she realized what it was. He was playing the piano soundlessly. Tilting her head to hear his soft hums, she smiled wider. It was ABBA’s  _ Fernando _ . One of her favorites. Her sweet boy.

Swaying slightly in tune with his hums, she turned her gaze away from Adrien and looked down at her sketchbook. Her face dropped, blinking in surprise as she stared at the scene she’d unintentionally created. It was Adrien’s profile, just as it was from her point of view at that very moment. Strong jaw and high cheekbones, his face was angled downward. Her gaze skirted past the structured collar of the formal jacket he was wearing to the much more delicate hand resting lovingly on his shoulder. Slender fingers faded into lace sleeves that ended at the tip of a petite shoulder. Marinette’s eyes skimmed the lines on the page, a rough drawing of her own face staring adoringly up into Adrien’s much more detailed features, both clad in what was unmistakably wedding attire.

The soft smile returned, an inexplicable wave of contentment washing through her at the realization. With him she’d finally found that indescribable  _ something _ poets and artists spent their lives trying to describe. It wasn’t perfect, but neither were they. They’d had more than their fair share of miscommunications and misunderstandings, spending years circling each other in a tangled web of their own making, but it was worth it. Every heartbreak and rejection made them who they were; made them realize the inconceivable beauty in what they had once they finally managed to get it right. The flaws made them who they were, and even if he’d never quite gotten over his abandonment issues from a child, nor she her inclination to shoulder her burdens alone,  they’d get through it together: steadfastly filling in the gaps their pasts had left in each other and forging forward as one. 

She turned to eye her imperfect man and felt no trepidation at this life she’d drawn for them. He had been her partner long before she even had an inkling of what that word truly meant. There was no one she trusted more to give her hand and heart to for as long as they both should live. Loving him was a religion she’d gladly dedicate her life to. It wasn’t the idol worship of her youth or his infatuation with the mystery behind her mask. It had become so much more; a continual path of self discovery through each other. 

Adrien’s body shuddered slightly bringing her back to the present, but he didn’t move, lost in the papers before him. Placing her sketchbook on the coffee table, Marinette rolled out of the blanket cocoon she’d made and started to shuffle towards the kitchen. Pausing as she passed him, she laid a cool hand on his shoulder, stooping to press her lips to the exposed skin of the back of his neck. His hand reached up to cover hers immediately, his humming turning from its melody into a low purr instead. She didn’t pause long, moving on towards the kitchen and switching on the kettle for tea.

Marinette had become attuned to Adrien’s quirks in the years they’d been living together. Their drive was frighteningly similar at times, and she knew he’d stay shivering at his desk and lost in his work unless roused by her or the smell of food. Tea worked, too.

She picked up on where he’d left off humming, her movements around the kitchen graceful as she grabbed the tea tin from the cupboard and milk from the fridge. 

Right on cue, the scrape of Adrien’s chair sounded from the other room. She heard his soft footfalls move about their small living area before they finally grew louder as he headed in her direction. Marinette sensed him enter the kitchen and move behind her, and she angled her head without thought to offer him her cheek. At the absence of his customary kiss, she paused, about to turn when his hand reached around her and placed her open sketch book on the counter. His body hovering just behind her, she leaned back into his chest, humming louder as Adrien’s hands instinctively come to rest on her hips. 

“Do you like my drawing, chaton?” Her voice came out softly, a smile evident in its tone even if he couldn’t see her face, but instead of pulling her closer, his warmth disappeared from her back. Spinning in confusion, she startled to find him down on one knee before her, his signature smirk softened by the look of pure adoration in his eyes. 

“You beat me to it, M’Lady, but then, you always are one step ahead of me,” Adrien continued to smile up at her, his eyes dancing with barely contained laughter. “I’d love nothing more than to follow you for the rest of our lives,” he continued, gaze blurring with unshed tears as she lifted a hand to cover her own smiling lips. 

Marinette fell to her knees in front of him, loving his traditional gesture, but needing to be on equal footing with her partner at what was the beginning of the journey that would be the rest of their lives.

“No,” she answered, reaching up to cup his cheek to soften her words. “I don’t want you to follow me,” she continued quickly, watching as his confusion at her response started to dissipate. “I want you to walk beside me, to calm my frantic pace with you warm smiles and steady love,” she paused, leaning closer and whispering the first of many vows. “For the rest of our lives.” 

Adrien’s face lit up, her perfect dose of sunshine again, as she pulled him closer. He stopped her, just at the edge of her kiss, and whispered the words against her lips.

“Marinette, will you marry me?”

“Only if you’ll marry me.”

Neither of them spoke. The promise made beyond the capacity of mere words. His lips capturing hers were the only answer either of them would ever need. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by literally just a single line of a Maisie Peters song called "The writer" which you can listen to on soundcloud if you want :)


End file.
